The Afterglow
by Roxy Fic
Summary: Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. NC17, 18000 words
1. 0 Prologue

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** This Chapter: PG-13 Overall NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 904

0. Prologue

Will's marriage to Elizabeth had been blissful for the first several months. Jack had sailed away on The Pearl to whatever weird escapades awaited him. Norrington had given chase but failed to apprehend him, and whether out of conscience or incompetence, Will didn't dare to discuss it. Will and Elizabeth had spent a joyful honeymoon doing all the silly things that new couples do. And then, out of the clear blue, Elizabeth had become strange and distant. She blamed it on Will, and he considered that his mind had indeed been idle, but something wasn't right with her no matter how absent-minded he had been.

Will gave thought to whether it was a matter of coyness. Both he and Elizabeth were rather pious and cared little for sharing the bed apart from kisses and caresses. Will was especially sensitive of Elizabeth's shyness and tried always to mind her boundaries, no matter how broad. In fact, he felt little desire on most evenings, regardless. He valued his innocence as much as she. But then it occurred to Will that perhaps he had been too coy with Elizabeth. He tried his best to let her know that she was not neglected, but to no avail. She rejected his advances consistently.

Will let the matter drop and turned his attentions to other matters. He worked constantly at his smithy, graciously taking the business when the master retired. He busied himself doing all that he could to provide Elizabeth with a proper house and all the things she wanted, without borrowing the money from her family. This, Will decided, must be the source of the problem. Elizabeth longed for the comforts she'd had at her family home, but she also longed for his company throughout the day. In trying to occupy her time, she eventually found her way back to the more leisurely social circles in Port Royal and began a rather controversial courtship with Commodore Norrington.

Talk had been about the town that Elizabeth was growing tired with her new marriage, but Will refused to hear it. He convinced himself that he was a lucky and prosperous man with a good business and a good wife. Yet, over time, Elizabeth was gone more and more frequently from their home when he returned from his day's work. When he confronted her, she was vague, but he had no evidence of her infidelity and could accuse her of nothing but absence.

Laying awake in bed one evening, tired and sore from a hard day's work, he turned his mind to Elizabeth. She'd gone to a small party that evening, with Norrington and some other friends of her father. Will had been invited, of course, as was polite, but he always felt out of place at such functions. Besides, he was tired. He told himself that he needed the time to rest. Will was perturbed that Elizabeth had gone without him, but somehow he could not commit himself to being entirely angry about it. He cared for Elizabeth very much and valued her happiness above his own. She'd saved his life more than once, been his best friend, shared his bed. How could he not? His troubling lack of anger, however, stemmed from something more complicated than a simple love of his new and beautiful wife.

In spite of all his efforts, he felt no desire to remain at home, either. Not just in the house – Will wanted to leave Port Royal altogether. Ever since he had tasted the salty air of the open sea with Jack, he longed for travel and adventure and other things he knew were immoral and hopeless. With Elizabeth at home, he could never allow himself to succumb to a life of vice and piracy. He was not angry with Elizabeth for being absent because he was angry with himself for longing to do as he pleased as much as she did. He allowed himself to realize that he was secretly happy Elizabeth had found another way to occupy herself because it left him a window of opportunity to slip away without breaking her heart. If Elizabeth fell in love with Norrington, Will could leave Port Royal without a stitch of guilt. His last tie would be severed and he could be free. Like a bird… A sparrow, even.

His thoughts turned to Jack. Where was Jack? What did he do after he'd gotten back his Pearl? Was he safe? Did he miss Will as much as Will missed him? Wait… did Will miss Jack? He wasn't entirely sure. When put so plainly, it seemed absurd. He'd hardly known Jack and in that time, Jack had done little to really endear him in any permanent sense to Will. Yet… the pull to find Jack was undeniable. Will wanted the wind in his hair and Jack in his arms. Er… well… Jack in his peripheral vision. That was more like it.

Will rolled over and began to doze. He could think of how to find Jack in the morning. And then Elizabeth slipped into the room. Quietly, she changed from her fancy dress into her night clothes and slipped into the bed beside Will. Clearly, she thought him to be fast asleep, already, and she tried not to disturb him. Will was very nearly asleep, though, when he thought he heard Elizabeth give a little sniffle. What in the world would make her cry?


	2. I Introduction

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 765

I. Introduction

Norrington stumbled backward into an upper bedroom of his spacious, but mostly unoccupied house. Laughing through the muffled sounds of the party happening downstairs, Elizabeth entered and shut the door behind them. Many of the guests had gone, including her father, who was the only one really keeping her from taking what she wanted. One thing she'd learned from Jack, with enough cleverness and enough desire, you can indeed take what you want.

The Commodore sat clumsily on the foot of the bed and motioned for Elizabeth to join him. It wouldn't be the first time they'd run off to one of the bedrooms in the house, or a few other houses, for that matter. They'd been together in the house Elizabeth shared with Will. They'd been together at several similar party functions that Will had chosen not to attend. Elizabeth visited Norrington frequently at his home during the day while Will worked and often, he sent the servants home early, claiming he was ill and Elizabeth had come to care for him. Certainly, she cared for him, but not by dabbing at him with a warm cloth and keeping him quiet company.

Elizabeth smiled at the memories, but felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving Will. She sat down beside the Commodore who wobbled his head a bit to get a better look at her. She put her face against his arm to hide her shame. He was drunk, and Elizabeth intended to make her big move. With a head full of wine, Norrington was far more likely to accommodate her.

Elizabeth turned and put her hand in the center of his chest, pushing him down on the bed. She kissed him excitedly, trying not to belie her intentions to spring upon him a rather difficult request. She undressed them both and went about things as normally as she was able. It was true, Norrington wasn't the most adventurous of lovers, but anything was better than Will's coyness. He was always so shy… Absolutely infuriating! Elizabeth shook herself and concentrated.

Norrington lay beneath her, mouth open and breathing heavily, head to one side. He arched himself rather helplessly as she slowed the pace of her hand, letting him down gently to a level of arousal at which she could speak with him.

"James," she said, gently. His eyes opened. Closed again. When she stopped moving altogether, they opened and focused on hers. She had his attention, finally.

"James, I love you." She was testing the waters.

"I love you, too," he replied. The Commodore was clueless. He reached for her lean sides.

"I want to go away with you."

"Away? To where? What's wrong with this room? I had it painted just for you!"

"No, no. I love the room. The color is beautiful. That's not what I mean..." She hesitated.

"Well, then, Elizabeth, out with it." His hands dropped to her thighs and rested.

"I want to go far away. Away from this town. Away from Will. I want to run away. Come with me. If you sold the house, we could go anywhere we wanted! I could get money from my family! Say you'll come. Won't you come with me?"

Norrington propped himself up on his elbows and stared hard at Elizabeth, trying to focus his dulled gaze. He couldn't possibly answer this question in such a state. Her tone had been rushed and panicked. He knew his answer would have to be precisely right and diplomatically phrased, but he'd essentially already made up his mind. He absolutely wouldn't abandon all he had in Port Royal. Not even for Elizabeth. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Norrington lifted Elizabeth gently by her hips and maneuvered himself out from under her. He sat with his legs over the side of the bed and thought for a few moments before putting on his clothes again. He put on his shoes, straightened himself and fingered his coat. Elizabeth sat dumbly on the bed, wrapped herself in a sheet and gave him a pleading look. No matter, the Commodore looked at her only briefly before he walked tensely from the room, swinging his coat about his shoulders.

When he got down the stairs he was glad to see the guests had gone home, too drunk to really notice his absence. Suddenly, he felt not drunk enough. There would be comfortingly loud noises and dim lights at a pub near the pier… And most importantly, more drink. He set out and left Elizabeth crying upstairs. Shortly thereafter, she fled home and slipped silently into bed beside Will.


	3. II Strange Encounters

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 2,510

II. Strange Encounters

Norrington strolled into the pub, trying to look calculated and casual, but to little avail. The Commodore was not seen to frequent pubs, and had on more than one occasion made it quite clear that he didn't care for them much at all. He was leery of the stares that followed him across the room as he made his way for a mostly uninhabited bench. He seated himself, now trying to hide from the stares he'd attracted earlier. He flicked a few coins at a bar maid and she brought him a mug of grog. He tossed it back and slammed the mug down, confused and dejected and quite possibly starting to anger. How dare Elizabeth ask him such a thing after refusing his proposal? He was disgusted with the whole thing and he contemplated this feeling as he stared into his mug.

Jack watched him from across the room. He'd been drinking steadily all night since his arrival. He'd left his Pearl in the charge of his crew to avoid drawing attention to himself. He'd come to find Will, but a little talking about town told him that he was blissfully married to Elizabeth. Jack, unlike Will, had never doubted his feelings. Will was a stunning boy and Jack had been known to share the company of men in the past. Jack made no secret of it, at least to himself: he wanted will for his own. In a fit of fury, Jack headed right to the pub and proceeded to attempt to drink himself utterly silly. By the time Norrington arrived, he was almost there, but Norrington aroused memories in Jack that stirred his previous fury and he got up to join the man, determined to share his foul mood in whatever capacity he could.

Jack sat right beside Norrington without warning or invitation, making Norrington jump a bit. The Commodore looked up into kohl-rimmed eyes and blinked. It couldn't be… Norrington had sworn to hang Jack if he ever returned. He wouldn't dare… It was! It was Jack Sparrow!

"What in the devil!" Norrington hissed fiercely at Jack.

"Fancy meeting you here," Jack replied with a calm and thinly disguised hatred in his voice.

"If it weren't for how Elizabeth would respond, I would run you through, Sparrow."

"Run me through, eh? I bet you'd like that. Wouldn't you?"

The Commodore narrowed his eyes and stared with blank anger. Jack wiggled a bit, comically impersonating a whore. Norrington suddenly caught his drift. He grabbed Jack by the shirt and stood, lifting them both clear of the bench, which was thrown sidelong with the effort. Pub goers scattered and began to gather to watch. He threw Jack backward and slammed him into a wooden beam. Jack was caught by surprise, but still had time to draw his sword. He pointed it dangerously at the Commodore and their blades rubbed together, an eerily high-pitched sound among the lower murmuring noises of the crowd that had assembled for the duel.

The bartender shouted for them to take it outside, but when he breached the chanting circle and saw Norrington, he merely ordered that Jack be hauled outside. Jack shouted something about cowards and Norrington charged after him, determined for the revenge he should've exacted when he first had the chance. He had let Jack go, but he wouldn't make that mistake twice.

This time, Norrington was quick. Before Jack had time to shove himself up off the ground, Norrington's sword was pointed readily. He stood and waited for Jack, who sat on the ground for a moment. In spite of himself, Jack was admiring the Commodore's jaw line. It was lovely. He thought he would really rather fancy to lick it. Stranger things had popped into Jack's head when he was full of thunder, but this was a dangerous idea, even for Jack to execute. The Commodore, however, was not attacking. He was merely on guard. So, Jack took the time to pick himself up, dust off his jacket and straighten his effects. When he was finished, he grounded himself and stared squarely at the Commodore's face.

Norrington was confused. He'd come looking for a proper duel and Jack was just standing there, eyeing him. He was too drunk to catch Jack's drift this time around. Instead of drawing his sword, Jack sauntered closer and Norrington placed his blade at Jack's chest.

"Go on, Commodore. Run me through," Jack teased.

"Don't be a coward. Draw your sword!" Norrington ordered, jaw set sternly.

"You know you want to. Go on and stick me with it! Just imagine that hot, wet blood all over your long, hard sword. Go ahead. Kill me."

The Commodore squinted his eyes, yet again. At Norrington's confusion, Jack took his opportunity and pushed the sword to one side by the flat of the blade, slipping close enough to breathe on Norrington's face.

"Tempting, isn't it? You want to kill me, don't you? You like the sound of all that sword business. Admit it! It gets your cold blood boiling just thinking about it." Jack spoke in a threatening tone, until his front finally faltered. Norrington stammered and Jack flashed him a lopsided grin. Swiftly, Jack being far more practiced with holding drink, he knocked the sword from the Commodore's hand and went for his lips. Norrington was no Will Turner, but for a night or two, he would do to squelch Jack's lust.

"Gods," Jack muttered, and Norrington found his back to something solid. He hadn't realized how close he was to the wall. And Jack was kissing him. Why was Jack kissing him? Didn't he want to kill Jack? Didn't Jack want to kill him? Surely not anymore, he supposed. Norrington sighed and recalled the pangs of lust he had hidden from himself the first time he'd had Jack so close to his clutches. He was too far gone to fight the urge, and he grabbed Jack roughly about the waist, kissing him back. Jack Sparrow was no Elizabeth Swann, but for a night or two, he would do to squelch Norrington's lust.

When the pair arrived at Norrington's door, Elizabeth had already fled and Norrington had already forgotten about her. The servants were in their quarters on the other side of the estate and neither man paid any heed to who would hear Jack being rather ruthlessly slammed into and thrust through the front door. Inelegantly, the Commodore shed his clothes as he directed Jack toward the master bedroom. For the second time that night, Norrington fell backwards through a door and stumbled his way to a bed.

This time, however, there were no niceties. Jack did not sit calmly beside him on the edge of the mattress. Jack did not caress him gently as Elizabeth had done. Jack leaped onto the bed like a cat, knocking the Commodore flat and surprised onto his back. Jack's beads clanked and jingled as he hovered over Norrington's face, tilting his head in his usual way. Yet, somehow, it seemed extraordinarily unusual to the Commodore. He pondered that it must have been the angle.

"Tell me, Commodore, what have you got planned for me?" Jack asked, "going to run me through?"

Norrington grunted. His eyelids lowered until he looked at Jack though small slits. Feigning a haze deeper than he really suffered from, he grabbed at Jack's shoulders. When he had a good hold, he moved suddenly to roll Jack onto his back. The only sign of Jack's surprise was a slight widening of his eyes. But Jack didn't mind being roughed up a bit. He grinned seductively.

"Go on, Commodore. Don't go easy on me."

"I am never lenient with rogue Captains," Norrington began, sitting up, tearing apart Jack's shirt and sitting atop his thighs. Norrington's jaw tightened. "In fact, I intend to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."

Jack's grin grew wider and he kicked his boots onto the floor. He wriggled contentedly into the softness of the bed.

"What'll it be, then? Moses' Law? I do hope you've something more creative than a lousy old whip…" Jack reached for Norrington's belt and removed it expertly in what looked like a single swoosh of movement. He pretended to crack it like a whip before tossing it to the floor. The Commodore watched fastidiously.

As Jack's hand reached into the layers of fabric, Norrington momentarily lost his bearings. He sat back on his haunches and his head rolled back, hands reaching idly to steady himself. They landed on Jack's chest and Norrington was struck by the notion that a man's chest is remarkably hard. He knew this, but it still felt surprising. His eyes fluttered open just as Jack was wriggling from his grasp and tossing him over onto his back. Again, the Commodore grunted, but this time it was in assent. Jack held him down, bare palm to bare chest, and tore his pants down without ceremony. Throwing them aside, Jack wriggled out of his own, and tossed what was left of his shirt onto the floor with the rest.

Jack scratched a trail down either side of Norrington's torso with his fingernails, his naked thighs straddling the man beneath him. Norrington writhed and groaned, and arched off the bed, placing his hands on Jack's hips. Indeed, he was more than willing to let Sparrow take the lead. Norrington's lonely nights at sea had only once been warmed by a man. The entire act was clumsy and embarrassing, but it was obvious that Jack had experience. Norrington could be content to let Sparrow put said experience to use. And so he did.

The Commodore closed his eyes and felt the pirate's matted hair brush against his belly. He felt the tip of Jack's nose below his navel before his tongue snaked out to taste a lock of coarse, dark hair. Jack dragged his nose down further, planting his lips solidly on the crease of Norrington's thigh. He sucked at the tender skin until it flushed with goose pimples. A little growl rumbled from the Commodore's throat and Jack moved to his groin. Jack teased with his tongue, knowing precisely how to torment his partner, coaxing him toward oblivion in the most infuriating way possible.

Jack lifted and lowered his mouth on the unsuspecting Commodore, who moved closer and closer to orgasm, being far more drunk than he was used to, and already rather bothered from Elizabeth's earlier ministrations. Jack, sensing the tension in the body below him, rose and began to rummage through his clothing. The Commodore lifted his head dazedly, and watched Jack extract a little bottle from a pouch. Jack was always prepared, merely waiting for the opportune moment. The Commodore could ascertain nothing and he let his head fall back, hair splaying extravagantly about his head.

Jack again positioned himself between the Commodore's knees, sitting back on his heels. He poured a bit of something from the bottle into his hands, rubbed them together briefly and then positioned his hands on Norrington in place of his mouth. Norrington didn't know what Jack was doing, but whatever Jack had on his hands was marvelously slick.

"What is that?" The Commodore demanded, huskily.

"Oil," Jack replied calmly. The Commodore made a bit of a face when Jack offered no further explanation, but instead, removed one hand from his task and placed it behind himself. Again, Norrington lifted his head and tried with little success to ascertain what Jack was up to. Alternately, Jack applied more oil to both himself and to Norrington, pouring small amounts into his hands until both were adequately greased.

Then, arching himself gratefully upon his own hand, he straightened his body and shifted his weight. He was ready, finally. Quitting his work with the oil, Jack put his dirty hands on either side of Norrington's hips. Jack maneuvered around the man's legs, straddling him. Jack balanced carefully, spine straight and muscles taught, and lowered himself. As soon as Norrington felt Jack at his tip, his eyes flew open wide. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he wasn't expecting Jack to assume a subordinate position without at least putting up a fuss.

Jack pushed down, oiled skin on oiled skin, so slowly it was agonizing for the drunken Commodore. The heat of Jack's body was intense, so much so that Norrington couldn't help but raise up his hips. He groped for Jack's thighs, trying to push him down faster, but Jack held his ground. He put a hand on Norrington's belly and held him down.

"Commodore," Jack threatened in a sing-song voice, evoking memories of the day he'd captured Elizabeth. Norrington smirked.

"You have got to be the worst pirate I have ever seen," he said. With that he thwarted Jack's hands, grabbed him by the hips and shoved him down. Jack groaned deep in his throat, gratefully accepting the Commodore's length. Jack sat and ground his hips down. He loved bedding men who fancied themselves dangerous adversaries. They always made for the most amusing talk. Norrington pushed upward, testing the waters. He looked at Jack nervously. He wondered if he was hurting Jack - The noises Jack made were so short and abrupt. Norrington stopped moving.

"I thought you weren't going to go easy on me, Commodore! Lost your nerve, have you?" Jack growled. He raked his nails along Norrington's sides, this time pressing hard into his skin. Norrington's expression hardened.

"If you're not careful, you'll have a dawn appointment with the gallows."

He pressed brazenly upward, still stunned by the heat and friction, and tightened his jaw. He lifted his hips off the bed with determination, shoving Jack up with them. Jack's head rolled backward and his mouth opened to let out heavy but muted sighs. When the Commodore let his hips fall, Jack slammed cruelly down, making no effort to cushion his fall. When Norrington's muscles began to tire, Jack shoved his hips down and held them. With surprising force, Jack lifted and lowered, angling himself almost gracefully to soothe his sensitive gland with Norrington's stiffness.

Jack's writhing looked animalistic and random, but from the swiftness with which it brought the Commodore toward orgasm, he could tell that Jack was calculated. His need culminating, Norrington once again grabbed Jack's hips, this time using the strength of his arms to give more force to his rhythm. Jack pushed down with all his weight, allowing Norrington to lift and raise him from beneath, and placed his hand on his own groin. Jack spilled onto the Commodore's belly, his body tensing, the spasms of which left Norrington breathless and debauched.

Jack smiled wickedly as he raised himself from the Commodore's lap. In moments he had fallen asleep and Jack took the opportunity to reflect on his endeavors. He wasn't sure if he'd go to find Will… He wasn't sure if Will would want him. But, for now, he at least had a very intriguing immediate future, and an almost unbelievable story to tell at ports.


	4. III Odd Couple

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 1,771

III. Odd Couple

The Commodore snored quietly in the morning light and Jack rubbed his eyes. Untangling his legs from the sheet and shifting his weight, he lifted Norrington's arms from about his torso. Norrington stirred gently and protested the shift in position before opening his eyes. Jack laid on his back and let the Commodore's head rest on his bare shoulder. Norrington blinked and stared unwittingly at the brown skin beside his face. Then, he realized what he was looking at – a man's chest!

Norrington sat up swiftly, the thunder he had drank swimming painfully to his head. He squinted in the light and willed his eyes to focus. Jack sat up and looked at him. When Norrington's eyes focused, his mind took a few moments to process the sight of Jack Sparrow sitting nude beside him. Spooked, Norrington tried to get away from Jack and scooted backwards, legs kicking comically until he fell squarely onto the floor. He jumped up with one hand on his rump and the other flailing about in a ridiculous effort to cover his indecency. He snatched up his hat from the floor and stumbled backward until he hit a chair and fell into it.

Jack laughed heartily and rocked backward, falling onto the pillows in near-hysterics. He laughed so hard he realized that his body was quite sore from Norrington's affections. Jack gripped one of his sides in light pain, but was unable to entirely stifle his giggling until Norrington stood abruptly, knocking the chair out from under him. Swiftly, he snatched his sword up from the floor and pointed it at Jack's neck, still holding the hat in front of his crotch. Jack looked quizzically at Norrington and when he paused, Jack leapt from the mattress and crouched behind it on the floor. In a moment he was up and running, sword in hand.

Norrington dropped his hat and gave chase, countenance flustered and red. Jack stood on guard while Norrington tried unsuccessfully to trap him in a corner. They circled and parried until the Commodore had nearly exhausted himself. He was too angry to fight well and he tired himself out easily, feeling weak and woozy from drink.

"Come off it, Norrington," Jack coaxed, his voice deep and gravelly from shouting the night before. "You can't tell me you don't remember a thing!"

"How dare you!" Norrington roared.

"Run me through, then, Commodore!" Jack scowled and forcefully stabbed the tip of his sword into the floor. He leaned on it lightly before leaving it behind and stepping forward. Norrington was caught off guard by Jack's unexpected surrender and Jack once again shoved the Commodore's sword to one side, stepping close.

"Run me through," Jack whispered. The memories came flooding back, bits and pieces at first until Norrington was able to fit them together into a story, however fragmented. He recalled going to the bar, slamming Jack through the front door, pulling Jack by the hips… He looked at the floor. It took moments but felt like years. Jack waited for the eyes to lift and dared to take another step. He breathed heavily from their duel, the air striking the Commodore's face.

Norrington met his eyes and Jack saw fury in them. Jack, of course, was up for the game. Norrington put space between them, again, but dropped his sword. He gasped and muttered phrases of disbelief.

"How dare you? I should have you hanged…"

"Well, Commodore," Jack's sing-song voice rang through the air, shaking the other man from his daze. "Come on, then. Give me what I deserve."

Norrington stood mindlessly and watched Jack's expressions. Before he knew it, Jack had him firmly by the back of the neck. Eyes blazing, Jack looked at him briefly before forcing their mouths together. The Commodore stood still for a moment and then flung Jack away. Jack went staggering backward and slammed into a dresser, sliding down its front and falling clumsily to the floor. He struck his head on the way down, and then sat there rubbing the sore spot. Norrington turned and swept the sheet off the bed, covering himself with it almost daintily.

Jack picked himself up and sauntered across the room. He took hold of the sheet around the Commodore's chest and pulled it hard forward. A breath away from Norrington's face, Jack hesitated.

"Had enough of me, then? Lost your nerve, after all? Some Commodore you are. Surely fit for the pompous old fleet you sail! Too piggish and scared to have your own way. You're a stuffed shirt, Commodore, but you won't forget the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack shoved him backwards and turned on his heel, but before he had a chance to get anywhere, Norrington grabbed him by the elbow and spun him back around. Forgetting his sheet, he punched Jack squarely in the jaw. Jack faltered a bit, but smiled. He licked the blood on his lip and in a swift movement, wrestled Norrington onto the bed.

Norrington laid on his back, grabbing frantically at Jack's arms in a livid attempt to fling Jack off him, but Jack was agile and managed to stay atop his adversary. Jack grabbed him by the hair and held his face still, pressing his bruised lips onto Norrington's. The Commodore's tongue slipped out to taste the blood left behind on his lip when Jack pulled away. Still fighting Jack for dominance, the Commodore groaned when Jack reached between their bodies, groping blindly. Gold glinting in his smile, Jack grabbed Norrington tightly and pulled. Norrington grunted harshly, head rolling back for a moment. Then, he caught Jack off guard and threw him over. Jack bounced on the soft bed, cursing briefly as he lost his advantage. The Commodore jumped up from the bed and grabbed Jack by the ankles. He swung Jack around until his legs hung off the edge and flipped him onto his belly, positioning himself behind.

Norrington slammed forward ineptly and Jack let out a sharp yelp. Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut and lifted his chin, arching his back.

"Looks like I've missed my appointment," Jack mocked.

"Appointment?" The Commodore choked out.

"With the gallows. It's well past dawn," Jack spat between thrusts.

"I don't have to send you to the gallows. I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget, right here and now."

"Aye, Commodore, you certainly will if you don't use any oil," Jack said. He tried to grab the bottle on the bed table, but couldn't reach. Norrington slapped at his hands and pulled away. Holding Jack by the hips, he pushed him up onto the bed and laid him face down. The Commodore got onto the bed and sat on his haunches, oiling himself. Then, he knelt and pulled Jack's middle up off the bed. Jack allowed himself to be moved, propped up obscenely, face in the remaining sheet.

Norrington watched Jack's back heave with breath and saw a flash of his reddened face when Jack lifted it for air. He looked down and watched his own body, pushing forward at a totally unanticipated bed partner. He had no idea how he'd managed to end up with Jack… No idea how he'd lost so much sense, but he was terribly glad he had done whatever it was he'd done. He tilted his head back and used his hands to pull Jack towards him, eyelids falling shut. Jack heaved himself up on his hands and knees and pushed back.

"Tilt down," Jack demanded curtly.

"What?" Norrington was already close to losing himself.

"I said tilt DOWN," Jack repeated, becoming flustered. Norrington did as he was told and Jack keened with pleasure. He crashed back at the man behind him with destructive vigor, hands curling ineffectively in the bed linens. Norrington bent low over Jack's shoulders and licked them, leaning on Jack's back and wrapping his arms around Jack's middle. Jack held them both up without complaint as the Commodore sounded his release. The few staccato thrusts he was able to muster as he finished sent Jack to his own completion and they both shuddered, collapsing toward the mattress.

Jack rolled onto his side and rubbed the small of his back. Norrington watched, looking altogether confused. He looked as though he were trying to speak. Since the pair had exhausted themselves, they hadn't spoken at all. Jack wondered what in the world could be the matter with Norrington, who so obviously was inept at doing things he felt he wanted to. The Commodore tightened his jaw.

"Have you been taught an adequate lesson, pirate?" It had been a few hours that they'd slept between activity, but Jack was sore and still rather tired.

"Aye," Jack replied, "and I'm about to collect my effects and be on my way." Norrington looked exceedingly bewildered.

"That's like a pirate."

"I trust you will remember this as the day –" And then Norrington covered Jack's mouth with his own, stopping whatever stupidity Jack was about to spew. Jack extricated himself and they rose from the bed.

"You'll do no such thing. You will stay right in this bed and contemplate all possible meanings of the phrase 'measured for your chains.' It's the least you can do for ruining my linens with your filthy hands," Norrington said as he pulled on his clothes.

"You can't keep me here," Jack said plainly. The Commodore walked to the door and looked at Jack over his shoulder. He rested his hand on the knob.

"No, but you can stay and eat a decent meal and provide a bit of companionship, perhaps in exchange for amnesty, or at least escape… Or you can flee and see the town put on alert and your weasley black guts strung up in the square for all to see."

"Aye, that meal does sound fine," Jack agreed and sat back on the bed.

Norrington left and returned handsomely, plates of food in either hand. He climbed into the bed and offered one to Jack. They both ate greedily, but Jack finished first, having been longer without food than the Commodore.

"There's something to be said for you law-abiding lubbers," Jack offered.

"Lubbers! Hah," Norrington hastily replied, taking another bite of food.

"You've got plenty to eat."

"A life of virtue pays well. You'd do well to learn it."

"You've got plenty to eat, but not nearly enough to drink!" And Jack heaved himself from the bed, rummaging through his clothes. He found a flask and emptied its meager contents into his mouth. Norrington rolled his eyes and put his plate down on the bed table.


	5. IV Please

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 1,105

IV. Please

By evening, the pair were again heavily intoxicated with wine. Norrington sent the servants home, so as to have full run of the house with Jack. He gave little thought to Elizabeth's absence and neglected to mention her to Jack. It was just as well for his ego that Jack thought the Commodore desperate. He would find it hard to admit that he wanted Jack even when he could have taken other partners.

Jack stood theatrically, telling a ridiculously spun tale. The Commodore shook his reservations about Elizabeth as he listened from the edge of the bed.

"Human hair," Jack made a stern face, "from my back." Then Jack giggled, revealing his farce, and the Commodore roared with laughter.

"It is a wonder how anyone ever falls for your stories," he criticized playfully.

"Aye, but it isn't a wonder how anyone falls for me," Jack's smile turned saccharin. Without moving his eyes from Norrington's face, Jack dropped his glass on the table and sauntered across the room. He knelt over Norrington's lap on the bed.

"So it would seem," Norrington replied. "So it would seem."

Jack bent low and kissed him, using one hand to push Norrington down onto the bed. The Commodore groaned under Jack's practiced and sensual touch.

"Will you be remembering me in the morning, or should I prepare to sneak out before you wake?" Jack teased.

"I appreciate your noise, Mr. Sparrow, but not your talk."

Jack laughed and began to shed his clothes.

"That's Captain," Jack whispered seductively into his ear, "if you please."

The Commodore grumbled good naturedly and pulled his fingers through the lesser tangled parts of Jack's hair. He was hesitant to show affection for Jack, but not at all bashful to accept it from him. His hips rose and fell under Jack's pressing body. He lolled his head to either side to expose his neck to Jack's caress. Jack pulled at the tender skin with his teeth and the Commodore released moans of near-desperation.

Jack put his hand between them and rubbed the lower half of Norrington's body. His hands worked leisurely, but with purpose, and he shifted his weight to allow the removal of clothes. With surprising tenderness, Jack guided the Commodore to right himself on the bed and laid atop his chest. Jack sighed contentedly into Norrington's ear when his back was touched with teasing hands. The colors of their skin contrasted and shimmered as they rubbed together in the summer heat and sun.

"Jack…" The Commodore breathed headily.

"Mmmm," Jack hummed around an earlobe.

Norrington grunted in indignant frustration.

"Say it," Jack growled, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Jack…" Norrington hesitated, "please…"

Jack pressed his body down hard, the muscles of his arms and legs and back tightening with the strain of sudden movement. The Commodore arched his body toward Jack and pushed him up. He ran his hands down Jack's chest to his groin and Jack bucked forward. Norrington was shy at first, almost demure. His hand moved tentatively as he forced himself to grow accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling of Jack's body. Surprised by the sudden contact, Jack moved his hand from its former task and used it to hold himself steady. He lifted his head and let Norrington work on him undisturbed, until he heard low rasps of desire.

Clumsily, Jack grasped for his bottle of oil. He poured some into his hands and sitting between Norrington's knees, rubbed the oil on him. With a quickness, Jack bent forward and readied himself. Norrington's eyelids fell to half mast as Jack straddled him. He gave a pained-sounding moan when Jack began to lower himself.

"Is this going to be the death of you, old man?" Jack queried.

"Indeed, I am an old man," Norrington answered, "but what a way to meet my end."

Jack chuckled. "I knew you'd warm up to me."

"Always flattering yourself," The Commodore chided. "What a way to meet my end… I'll be sent right to hell! Not to mention the state they'd find me in after you've run off!"

Jack wiggled his hips for attention. It worked. The Commodore held him still and pushed up to meet him.

"God," Jack croaked.

"There's damnation enough in this room," Norrington replied, and they both gave choked laughs before falling entirely to task.

The Commodore, however, was not entirely content to lay flat while Jack set the pace. His need blazed and he lifted Jack up, but when he tried to slip out from under him, Jack looked startled. Wordlessly, he allowed himself to be guided until he lay on his back, all sinew and hardness laid out vulnerably, like a woman. Hastily, Jack stuffed a pillow under his back. Norrington voiced no complaint or pleasure, even as he sank down onto Jack. The Commodore noted the different sounds he provoked in Jack by thrusting with various speeds and pressure and angles. Once he felt he had a decent idea of Jack's reactions, he determined he'd get Jack back for making him say 'please.' He trust with infuriating irregularity until Jack nearly howled at every touch.

"Norrington," Jack panted. He clawed at the Commodore's back and entwined their legs, trying desperately to get him to push faster, harder… anything but this agony! Norrington bent beside Jack's ear.

"Say it," he whispered.

"Make me," Jack hissed venomously. The Commodore slammed into Jack, giving him just what he wanted and then stopping abruptly. Jack whimpered.

"Say it," Norrington urged.

Jack whined.

"Say it!" Norrington spat the syllables. He held Jack's hips still on the bed. He feigned the beginning of a thrust and withdrew teasingly before he could push all the way forward. That did it. Jack roared, forgetting his pride.

"Ah, Commodore," his strange accent came pouring out into the heated air. "Commodore, Please!" He shouted. Norrington thrust a single time.

"Again," he demanded of Jack, sensing his receptive state.

Clawing madly, Jack shouted again, "please! Aye, damn, Norrington! I need it…Please, please more –" but Jack was cut off by the Commodore's furious passion. His words turned to unintelligible grunts and moans.

"Touch me. Aye, God, put your hand on me," Jack pleaded.

The Commodore leaned heavily on one elbow to fulfill the request. In a matter of moments, Jack spilled over his own belly. He wrapped his legs around the Commodore's back to aid the force of the impact with his own legs. Twitching with release, Jack expelled a flood of foul language, begging the Commodore for more and harder. Norrington had never heard such flattering talk, but it made his orgasm quick and bestial.


	6. V A New Plan

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** This Chapter: PG-13 Overall NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 1,237

V. A New Plan

A few mornings after the Commodore had brought home his prize, Elizabeth knocked at his front door and was admitted by a maid servant. They were used to Elizabeth's unannounced presence and did not bother to ask her to wait in the foyer. She greeted the servant cheerfully and lead herself down the hall. She was determined to win the Commodore's favor, no matter what it took – even forgiving him for running out on her. After all, she hadn't even given him time to cool off and return home to talk. She went to the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea from the ready pot. Tea and an apology would surely soften the Commodore's mood. She arrived quietly at the bedroom door and turned the knob gently.

Rising sleepy, sated and sore from the bed, Jack rubbed his eyes, trying not to wake the Commodore. If he were quick and silent, he could be gone before the man woke, but before Jack had time to finish his thoughts, the door swung open.

Elizabeth opened the door and paused rather dumbly. There, right in the Commodore's bedroom, stood Jack Sparrow, naked as the day he was born save a few rings and baubles. She held her breath. Jack turned from the window to reach for his clothes and saw her. For a few long moments, they stared at one another before the shock set in. Then, the cup in Elizabeth's hand slid from her grip and shattered on the floor. The noise shook everyone into action.

The Commodore woke with a start and turned about, blinking wildly with the effort of rising after the previous night's efforts. Jack stumbled and pulled his breeches up, grabbed the rest of his effects and fled, shoving Elizabeth cruelly from the doorway. A flood of curses fell from her lips and she recovered from Jack's shove to slap Norrington across the face. He watched her back as she stomped away and time seemed to slow down. He'd lost everything… How could he win her back? He sat with head in hands when he heard the cook shout that he'd caught a pirate.

With a bit of luck, the cook had intercepted Jack's panicked search for the back door and detained him, Jack's sword having been tangled up in his shirt, which he had been too hurried to put on. Elizabeth had fled for the front door and slipped out without notice. She ran toward home to settle herself. Her plans were foiled! If the Commodore wanted Sparrow, then she didn't pull enough weight to drag him away with her. It dawned on her that she could blackmail Norrington. She was a well-respected member of the community and Norrington's frequent absence from work had often raised suspicions since their affair began. To those who believed her faithful to Will (and to those too frightened to speak up about thinking otherwise), she would have no obvious motive to inform on the Commodore, other than truth. What better frame, then to tell the town that their beloved Commodore had been bedding the notorious captain? Elizabeth gathered her wits and turned round again, heading back for Norrington's home. She had a new plan.

When she got there, she silenced Norrington's excuses.

"Stop!" She demanded harshly, "I know what you've done and I don't care! I'd come to apologize, but now I've come with demands." She paused briefly, "if you come away with me, we can forget all of this repugnant ordeal. If you refuse me, I shall tell the whole town of your excursions and you'll be ruined."

Norrington stared at her, mouth slightly agape. "Ah… Very well," he replied before attempting to regain his composure. "I've detained Captain Sparrow and will be admitting him to the jail for the attempted burglary of my home. The cook has him bound to a chair in the kitchen. As soon as this business is done, I will begin to make preparations, but it must be done. Anything else will arouse suspicions too soon for us to escape without great difficulty."

Elizabeth nodded and the two shook hands on their agreement.

The pair went downstairs and Elizabeth apologized to the servants, saying she'd been so startled by Jack that she'd fled. The Commodore kissed her hand and went to tend to Jack. Elizabeth left, but was not yet through. She was furious with Norrington, as well as Jack, and needed to exact some revenge on them both, even if it was trivial and private. She turned down the road toward the smithy.

Will was bent in concentration, hard at work polishing a long and glistening sword. She admire the sight for a moment recalling the days when she would have more relished to stand and watch. Now was not the time for old flames. This was business. She coughed to announce her arrival.

"Oh, Elizabeth!" Will exclaimed. "It's so nice of you to visit. It's about time I had a break." He put down his work, but before he could embrace her, thinking perhaps things would look up after all, she began to speak.

"You'll never guess what's happened!" She began, but didn't give Will the time to guess, "Norrington's arrested Sparrow!"

"Bloody pirate," Will grumbled. "I should've known he's come back and get himself into trouble. How'd he get caught?"

"Well, you see, I went to Norrington's this morning to fetch a bangle I'd forgotten at the party and when I got there, I saw Jack. I was so frightened when he shoved me that I ran right out of the house!"

"Jack shoved you!" Will looked cross. "Jack was in the Commodore's house?"

"Wait, wait, there's more," Elizabeth cut his protests short. "I went back to see if everyone was alright and James said Jack had been caught by the cook and was arrested for trying to burglarize his house!"

"Preposterous. What would Jack want with anything of Norrington's?"

"Precisely!" Elizabeth's tone rose in excitement. "I don't think Jack stole anything at all… apart from the Commodore's dignity."

"You mean-"

"I think they're lovers. When I arrived the first time, Jack was standing utterly nude in the Commodore's chamber and the Commodore was sleeping in the bed! He's only arrested Jack because I walked in and discovered them!"

Elizabeth beamed triumphantly; Will had bought the story. Surely, this would ruin their friendship forever. She hated Sparrow, wanted to ruin him any way she could. Will sighed. The details of the story were fuzzy, but it wasn't too far fetched to believe. Jack was prone to stupid and outrageous stunts. Will thought he was done saving the pirate from himself, but he couldn't stand to see his friend hang for piracy when the real crime was being caught satisfying another lonely seaman. Will wasn't pleased by contemplating whatever it was that two men could do together, alone, but he hardly thought the privacy of any man's bedroom was the place for the nose of the law, especially when callously disguised for reputation's sake. This whole business certainly complicated his ideas about slipping away, leaving Elizabeth blissfully in Norrington's arms. But, perhaps, it was the perfect opportunity. He could spring Jack from jail and they'd make their break together. To Hell with whatever Elizabeth was doing in the Commodore's chambers in the early morning and to Hell with whatever the Commodore wanted from Jack.


	7. VI Blacksmith's Passion

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 993

VI. Blacksmith's Passion

In the middle of the night, both Will and Jack made their escapes. Elizabeth had made some feeble excuse to see her father, claiming to be confused and upset by the day's ordeals. Will waited until he was certain she would not return that evening and crept quietly toward the jail. When he arrived, he discovered Jack's cell unguarded and empty. Realizing Jack had escaped without him, he sulked back to the house to contemplate a new plan of escape.

Laying quietly in bed, Will's thoughts turned to where Jack had gone. Had he escaped back to Norrington? What would they do together? What did they do together that Elizabeth had almost caught them doing? Will's mind drifted without his control and he imagined, seemingly against his will, how the two men must look in the throes of passion. Will wasn't a simpleton. He wasn't sure entirely about the details, but he'd had relations with women and he knew his own body well enough. Women had a hole intended for the man's penis to enter, but men lacked that hole. Nonetheless, men still had a perfectly good hole, even if the intentions for said hole were slightly different from a woman's. But what else was a man to do? A man had to enter somewhere. Two men… Well, at the very least, they could take turns. Unless one of the men particularly liked the entering to be done to him instead of by him. Will tried to shift his mind, but it was enraptured in its own plans for thought. Will assured himself that private thoughts, no matter how bizarre, were acceptable. After all, they were only thoughts. And so he allowed them to continue from that point on, undisturbed.

He tried to imagine Jack laying under Norrington, like a woman might. He thought of how Jack would toss and turn his head from side to side, making noises of considerable pleasure. Somehow, the image didn't work for him. Will tried to imagine the Commodore laying under Jack, but the idea of the Commodore experiencing any kind of passion seemed extraordinarily bizarre to Will. He mused, however, that Jack looked much better suited to the man's traditional position than Norrington had.

Will tried to erase Norrington's countenance from the mental image and just leave Jack with an anonymous partner. No such luck. Will simply wasn't imaginative enough. He couldn't see it. So, he tried to make a partner up for Jack – lean arms and legs, hard torso, tanned skin, brown eyes, curled locks… Will told himself he was imagining this for educational purposes, but he began to become aroused. The next thing Will knew, he was imagining how it would feel to be beneath Jack, to accept his weight and his length and his passion. Will exhaled deeply and said a silent prayer that Elizabeth would stay out all night.

Will reached beneath the covers of his bed, twisting around until he laid most comfortably. He removed his shirt and tossed it onto the floor. Elizabeth had always run her hands over his chest and he thought it felt quite good. He imagined Jack imitating the movement as he did so himself. Eyes shut tightly, he ran a calloused hand over his nipple and navel, downward and upward again. Touching his own chest, he imagined the feeling of Jack's. He thought it must be bonier, and he reached down further, feeling lightly annoyed that he had to stop rubbing his chest to pull down his pants.

Will wrapped his hand around himself and tugged. His hips rose and fell lightly, imitating the movements of intercourse. Will had been told that whores did delightful things with their mouths and Will lifted his hand to his tongue to wet it, then placed it back between his legs. He imagined Jack was putting his mouth on him instead of a whore. He didn't know what it would feel like as his endeavors with Elizabeth had always been unadventurous, but he put all his efforts into concentrating on it. He imagined the tongue licking, and the wetness and heat. Will didn't have a lot of success with imagining the oral activities, so instead he concentrated on what he knew: hands. He imagined Jack's hand pulled and pushed back at him instead of his own. Jack was a man and possessed, therefore, the advantage of knowing precisely how a man ought to be touched. This activity consumed his attentions for a while until he realized that his fantasy Jack must be awfully unsatisfied.

Feeling a little daring, Will reached around and touched a finger to his own entrance. It was very sensitive, but he was nervous to touch himself so. Thinking he might hurt himself, Will again licked his hand. He placed it back behind himself and pushed cautiously. He found that if he relaxed, a digit could be admitted with little discomfort. He tried to use a second, but his arm was crooked strangely and he began to feel uncomfortable. At least, however, he'd gotten the idea of the feeling of how it was to have a presence within him and he used this as a basis to imagine what Jack would feel like.

He imagined how Jack would slide, gently at first and then with growing fervor. Will worked diligently with his hand and his imagination, almost hearing Jack's cries of lust and exertion. Will thought of Jack growing so hard he could not contain himself, and the spasms that would shake them both in time. Will felt his own orgasm build, and he imagined the twitching in his groin mirrored in Jack's. Will spent soundlessly apart from one choked-out word: "Jack."

Will gasped and caught his breath. He reached down for his shirt and used it to clean his belly and hands, and tossed it to the floor. He pulled his breeches up and quickly fell asleep, physically overworked and emotionally exhausted.


	8. VII Escape

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 1,748

VII. Escape

Elizabeth had indeed gone to her father's for some time, confessing she'd seen Jack arrested, but sparing him the part about the nudity. It was enough that she'd foiled both Jack and Norrington in Will's eye; she was at least partially vindicated. While Elizabeth drank tea at her father's home and collected his sympathies for her unannounced travels with Norrington, he had gone to the jail and paid for the silence of the guard. He opened the door to Jack's cell and stood gingerly inside its threshold.

"Thought you were locking me up, Commodore," Jack said coldly, without getting up.

"Elizabeth is blackmailing me, Jack. If I don't leave with her, she'll tell all of Christendom that… well…" Norrington faltered.

"That you've done something far less Christian than stealing another man's wife. Better of two evils. I understand," Jack grumbled, raising himself from the floor. He studied the Commodore's face. It had only been a few days, but Jack had grown to like the other man's company. He was witty, concise and best of all, eager in bed without making a show of it.

"You've got to be gone before dawn," he told Jack. Norrington saw the look of hurt in Jack's face. He felt hurt, too. In spite of all their gruffness and their past, and their general inability to admit compassion, or heaven forbid, affection, Norrington didn't want Jack to go.

"Well…" The Commodore trailed off.

"Well?"

"Well… I suppose we've a few hours before dawn…" Norrington over dramatized his disapproving posture as Jack stepped forward. Abruptly, after looking him in the face for a few long seconds, Jack grabbed the man's hair and gracelessly shoved their mouths together. For a moment, the Commodore was knocked silly, dazed with lust and bittersweet butterflies. He only had a few hours to enjoy Jack and he would not be foolish enough to waste his time. Prying away Jack's hands, he motioned him to follow and lead the way quietly to the house.

Norrington opened the door cautiously and stepped through. Ascertaining that no commotion would be stirred, he ushered Jack inside and back to a first-story bedroom, the door of which he locked, checked and double-checked. Jack sat nervously on the bed, haunted that it would be the last time he would ever see it. Jack was never one to reflect on such things before. He'd taken many lovers in many ports and never looked back. Somehow, the Commodore's innocence and reluctance and spontaneity made Jack feel that he at least owed the man the decency of a proper explanation for his leaving. But at least this spared him the difficulty of explaining his all-pervading obsession with Will Turner.

Norrington turned and faced Jack, unbuttoning his jacket and tossing it on a dresser. Jack stood and flicked the hands away from the fastenings of Norrington's tunic. Jack undressed him mostly with his mouth, using his hands only at the breeches, which once undone, he shoved down with a booted foot. Norrington tossed Jack's jacket and the remainders of his torn shirt over his tanned shoulders and kissed him. Jack groaned gratefully and the Commodore undid his belt. Jack's pants fell about his ankles and he stepped out of them as well as his boots, kicking the jumbled pile aside.

Naked and panting, the pair crept toward the bed, trying not to trip over one another, but being yet unwilling to get far enough apart to really walk. The back of Jack's legs hit the bed and he allowed himself to tumble back onto it, dragging the Commodore down with him. Jack tried to sit up, but Norrington resisted him.

"Commodore," Jack whispered, "the oil's on the floor in me pocket."

"You wait. I'll get it."

As Norrington fumbled through Jack's effects, Jack wondered why he had never called the other man by his first name. The reason now was because he had never done so in the past. Jack needed this to be as much like their previous endeavors as possible because this time, he wanted to forget that it would be the last time. He supposed that in the past, the reason was that he had never taken their affections seriously. It was all an absurdist joke. And Jack was happy to play along, so long as the Commodore was willing to sate him physically. But now it was more. They were both going to have to disappear… In opposite directions. Jack would miss him. Now, he regretted his pride. He should've always called the Commodore by his fitting name.

Jack held out his hand for oil and rubbed it slowly over Norrington's length. Norrington paused to let out some noises before oiling his own hand and slipping it behind Jack. Knowing they'd never share a bed again abolished all shame and they both writhed desperately. Then, the Commodore stopped. Jack looked up at him, confused and worried.

"We'll never… I'll never…" Norrington began and paused awkwardly. His voice cracked. Jack waited, trying to control the tension on his face.

"We'll never get another chance, Jack, especially me. I'd regret forever not knowing how you felt if we never… Well, could we… Er… Switch?"

Concern melted from Jack's features and his face relaxed into a small smile. He thought the problem was more complicated – that they might have to stop their romp. He reached out and kissed Norrington gently. So much for forgetting it was their last chance. So much for ordinary. Jack sat up slowly until the two faced each other, kneeling tentatively upright on the bed. Jack held Norrington's shoulders and turned him, laying him on his back. The sheets had been aired, but Jack's hand prints from their first encounter remained. He smiled at the memory of their playfully feigned anger. Taking the bottle of oil, he slicked up his fingers.

"Relax," Jack cooed, "I won't hurt you, even if I do have to wait longer than dawn."

The Commodore sighed and tried to release the tension in his muscles. Jack's finger felt foreign and made him jump, but the oil protected him thus far from pain. Jack bent his finger and struck something that surprised Norrington. He felt his face flush hot and the sensation radiated through his body as he began to sweat. All he could feel were Jack's hands, one in front and one behind. All other sensation was effectively drowned out. The hand in front distracted him from a second finger, some minutes later a third, until Jack decided his partner must certainly be ready.

Jack withdrew his hands and placed them on his own hardness. Dark eyes met hazel eyes as he readied himself. He slicked himself once, twice over to take the edge off. Jack leaned down and watched the man below him. He kissed Norrington's mouth and nudged his knees apart, easing forward. Norrington lay prone and pliant, giving little resistance as Jack pressed on. Gently, slowly, Jack allowed him to adjust until he could push no further. He waited for Norrington to release his breath. Then, Jack pulled backward, angling his groin to stroke the internal spot that made Norrington arch his back with sensation.

Jack hissed air through his teeth and bent his head to lick the Commodore's collar bone. Holding himself up with one hand, Jack put the other between them and wrapped it around Norrington, who clutched witlessly at Jack's torso. The Commodore knew that Jack was more than adequate. From head to toe, Jack was tanned and exotic and dangerously gorgeous. He was lean, deceptively powerful and astoundingly perfect in his proportioning. Yet, from his vantage point, Jack's girth was startling to say the least. Norrington was flushed and dripping with their combined sweat. Overcome and overwhelmed by Jack's hand and mouth and cock, the Commodore allowed himself to lose control of his dignity. They both rocked frantically as the Commodore's cries reached a feverish pitch, when Jack stifled them with his tongue.

With Jack's limbs and hips undulating furiously, Norrington approached his peak. Jack pulled his mouth away and a sound escaped Norrington that was almost indistinguishable at first.

"Jack!" The Commodore shouted. He shouted and muttered and breathed and cried the name until the sound of it had lost its meaning, echoing like an unfamiliar mantra through the bedroom chamber. Jack pushed and pulled, trying vainly to make each thrust harder and deeper, grunting and puffing like an animal. Jack was so close, he couldn't think.

"James," he moaned, quite loudly ruining his own intentions to keep things as much like how they had once been. At that, Norrington was finally conquered by his ecstasy and he let out a series of low, quiet wails, so overcome that he hadn't even the presence of mind to scream. He spent for what felt to him like hours, tightening almost painfully around Jack, who howled and twitched and finally collapsed.

For a few minutes, the pair lay panting on damp sheets. Then, Jack felt uneasy. He lifted his head from the Commodore's shoulder and turned his face toward the door. He saw the silhouette before his eyes focused.

"Elizabeth!" Jack breathed. Norrington's eyes snapped open and he heaved Jack off of his chest, landing him on the floor with a heavy thud. Jack scrambled for his effects as Elizabeth covered her mouth and fled back down the hall. Eyes practically glazed over with shock, the Commodore sat stoically on the bed.

"She told me she'd lost the key I gave her…" he mused to himself. "I thought she couldn't get in… Jack, you've got to get out of here! She could be back any moment with every admiral this side of the new world trailing her. If you're caught they'll kill you. And if I'm caught with you, we're both doomed. At least alone I can stall them."

Jack's face contorted in frustration. He knew Norrington was right, but he'd hoped to spend his last moments peacefully sated in the Commodore's arms.

"However brief," he whispered to Jack, "I loved you." Jack couldn't return the sentiment. He loved Will. Jack looked briefly at Norrington placed a hand on the man's pale white shoulder and then shook himself to action.

Without wasting another moment, Jack pulled on his breeches and jacket, grabbed his effects and jumped out the first story window. He made haste for the cover of trees and hoped Elizabeth was making for the authorities instead of her home.


	9. VIII Hell Hath No Fury

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** This Chapter: PG-13 Overall NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 429

VIII. Hell Hath No Fury

Tears stung Elizabeth's eyes as she slammed open the door of a gun chest in Norrington's house. She rummaged almost blindly until she found a loaded pistol. Her mind was glazed over with fury and she did not give heed to any internal warning against what she was about to do. She clamored to her feet and cocked the pistol, stumbling at full speed back toward the bedroom.

She entered the room and pointed the pistol squarely at Norrington's chest. He had begun to pull on his clothes, but stopped in his place.

"Where's Jack!" She shouted. Norrington looked at the open window, curtains billowing gently in the night breeze. She pointed the gun toward the window and squinted, but nothing substantial could be seen of the outside. Jack was gone. She'd deal with him later. Then Elizabeth turned again on the Commodore. He was too surprised to offer protest. He stood wide-eyed as Elizabeth pulled the trigger.

The sound of a great blast filled the little room and a tuft of smoke rose up between the pair. Norrington's hand went immediately to his chest. He pulled it away and gasped as he looked at the blood on his hand. The Commodore extended the hand toward Elizabeth, begging for he knew not what. He fell to his knees, still half undressed and coughed his last breath. As the blood sprayed from his lips he gave Elizabeth a final pleading look and fell face-first onto the floor. Elizabeth watched as the blood pooled around him, staining his white hair.

She thought quickly. The servants would have heard the shot. She could easily blame it on Jack who would be gone from the cell in the morning. She threw the pistol out the window, into the bushes below the ledge. They would find it later as they searched for Jack's trail. Then Elizabeth staged her entrance to the scene and let out a terrifying scream. She flung herself onto her knees beside the Commodore's body and cradled his head, waiting for the servants to arrive.

She wept and moaned until they tore her away from Norrington's still-warm corpse and she told them her story: She had let herself in, hearing a commotion from outside and discovered the Commodore struggling with Jack. Just as the door swung open, Jack stepped back and shot Norrington who died instantly. Then, Jack leapt out the window and was gone into the night. She was sent to her father's house to grieve and never questioned further.

Jack never heard the shot.


	10. IX Welcome Home

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 3,731

IX. Welcome Home

Jack stumbled to Will's doorstep and jiggled the handle. Locked. He ran around to the side of the house and shoved a window open, which fortuitously led him right into the bedroom where Will was sleeping. Quietly, Jack climbed in and shut the window behind him. He stood for a moment, then stalked over to Will's bedside and touched his face. Will didn't wake until Jack moved his shoulders a bit. Will blinked in the darkness until he could make out Jack's features. He smelled him before he saw him. Will drank in the scent of sea and musk and perfumes, sitting up hastily to pull Jack into an embrace. Will blushed upon remembering his illicit fantasy from earlier. He was glad Jack probably could not see the blush in the dark.

"Where've you been, Jack?" Will asked, feeling nervous and rushed by Jack's demeanor. He pushed Jack to arms length so that he could see his face.

"The Commodore…" Jack's thoughts hinged on the sound of Norrington shouting and whispering his name. Will shook his head.

"You don't have to… Elizabeth told me," Will said and Jack sighed in relief. That saved a lot of explaining. "But how did you get out of the jail?"

"He let me out," Jack replied, deciding not to tell him that Elizabeth had caught them a second time. It could wait at least until morning.

"And you just… left?" Will asked, hope building in his voice. He wanted Jack to want him more than he wanted Norrington.

"Aye," Jack affirmed, sensing Will was hanging on his every word. "I came to Port Royal to find you, but he caught me first. Then, he fell behind." He left the details of his search vague in case he was mistaken about Will's intentions.

"I went to spring you from the jail but you were already gone," Will confessed. "I hoped that if I helped you escape you would take me with you wherever you were going next."

Jack thought about this for a moment. He shed his jacket and effects onto the floor.

"Let me stay the night and we can be gone in the morning," Jack suggested.

"I've only one bed…" Will looked around sheepishly. "Elizabeth won't be home tonight. You can sleep if you like. I won't touch you, Jack." Jack sensed more than saw the flush of Will's blood.

"Aye," Jack whispered, "that's what I'm afraid of."

Jack touched Will's face and slipped a piece of mussed hair behind his ear. Will was rumpled and warm from sleep. The Commodore had been an amusing playmate, but being so close to someone as endearing as Will made Jack very glad he had left. Jack lifted the blanket to climb in beside Will, who moved over quickly and gauchely. Will was nervous, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Jack's. Kicking off his boots and climbing gingerly into the bed, Jack flashed a quick smile – charming, but not intimidating.

He slid into the warm spot on the bed that Will had made with his body and was grateful to have finally realized his intentions in coming to Port Royal. He never should have wasted his time in foolish games with Norrington when he could have been here with Will. Jack waited for Will to make a move. He didn't want to scare the boy away before they had begun. Then, Will sighed and let his eyes close. It was his way of telling Jack that he was ready. Jack pushed himself closer to Will, until he could feel his breath. He inched his lips forward, slowly and cautiously. It felt like hours before they met, and when they did it was a gentle brushing together, like a light breeze. When Will didn't flinch, Jack pressed a bit harder, kissing him fully. Instinctively, Will opened his mouth and Jack pushed out his tongue.

They kissed for long moments before Jack dared to put his hands on Will at all. He started by putting one on Will's neck, eventually running it down his chest to the hem of his breeches and pulling a bit. Will inhaled sharply when the lower halves of their bodies made contact. He extended his leg to touch Jack's and Jack leaned in appreciatively. Jack rested his hand on Will's chest, much the way Will had imagined he would, and Will moaned aloud. He wanted to touch Jack, too, and tugged the bottom of Jack's shirt gently upward. Jack discarded it without a word.

All of Jack's body was hard and unyielding, but his manner was comforting - slow and gentle. Will mustered courage enough to advance and Jack pulled Will by the breeches once more. Then he removed his hand from between them, placing it on the small of Will's back. He applied pressure with his palm and pushed his hips forward, holding their bodies completely flush. Will felt the swell of Jack's hardness against his own and Jack sighed lustily. Will's breath shook gently against Jack's face as his mouth fell open in passion.

"I came looking for you… looking for this…" Jack tripped over his words. Will looked down at the sheets and bit his lip.

"Jack," Will murmured. "We don't have to…"

"It would be far worse not to," Jack replied. "I've been waiting too long to jump ship, now."

Will kissed Jack with urgency, touching his face and shoulders. He dismayed when he felt Jack's mouth pull away, but it was only to place it on Will's collar bone, still naked from his earlier diversions. Jack's breath was so thrilling that Will hardly noticed Jack opening his pants. He slid his hand over Will's length and paused, bracing for the panic that might seize Will's conscience. There was none. Jack's breath expelled quickly as he felt the hardness beneath his hand. Stalling, Jack let go and ran his hands up and down Will's back, around to the front, up to his neck. Using the strength of his hands to add force to their kiss, Jack pulled Will's face closer and held it there. Will, however, threw back his head and moaned when Jack dared to close his hand around Will's length again. The hand squeezed and pushed and pulled, as Jack concentrated his attention to make Will writhe in fevered desperation. It worked.

Will squeezed his eyes shut and let his lips part, seeking to regain Jack's kiss. When he found it, he opened his mouth more and let Jack tease his tongue out. Jack put his lips around the tip of Will's tongue and sucked. Will was not naïve and the insinuation made him painfully hard. Jack kept one hand at work below Will's waist and pushed him over onto his back. Nimbly, Jack climbed over Will's legs and leaned on the hard torso. Will kissed Jack excitedly and wrapped his arms around Jack's neck. He tried to hold Jack still, but Jack pulled away and watched Will's face, the flitting eyes, the reddened cheeks, as he shed his own breeches. He saw Will's eyes sweep over his body.

Sweat shone lightly over Jack's neck and coarse hair tumbled over his shoulders. The sinew of his torso shifted slightly with the movements of his breathing. Jack's body was thin, but tough, escaping gentle-looking elegance only by virtue of the sharp definition of every angle and edge. Will's eyes strayed lower. A tuft of hair began at Jack's navel, matching the color of the hair on his head, but even more coarse-looking if that was possible. The hair began sparsely, then widened and became thicker, finally forming a thatch of unruly black surrounding that piece of anatomy that made Will's skin flush and tingle. Yet, even as his blood ran hotter than a forge, his mind was troubled.

Will didn't quite know what to do with Jack, in spite of his former fantasizing. He wanted to touch Jack, but he was afraid, of what, he could not particularly discern. Still half-righted after removing his pants, Jack shifted his weight from knee to knee, waiting for Will to panic or to regain himself, whichever came first. Then, Will realized Jack was watching him. He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been staring at Jack's body, but he blushed with the embarrassment of being caught. The pirate in Jack emerged then, and he was unable to resist testing the waters.

Jack raised a hand from his side and rubbed himself with it. Will blinked in astonishment. Jack had absolutely no shame, taking himself in hand, leaning his head back, letting low moans escape his lips. Will finally remembered to breathe, but it came out noisily and alerted Jack, who opened his eyes and grinned. The familiar pattern of gold shined back at Will in the dim light of the moon. Will didn't know all Jack had in mind, but he kept his gaze steady, eyes trusting. Jack steadied himself between Will's knees and sank onto all fours. He brushed his lips over Will's and tilted his head to one side. Jack kissed Will's exposed ear and neck, pulling at the skin with minute suction.

For a few moments, Will laid still, but as Jack reached his chest, Will lifted his hands to Jack's back. He held them there, feeling the undulating of Jack's shoulders. Jack bit delicately at one nipple and Will arched, a wave of goose pimples washing over his body. Jack's caress was hot, almost scalding, as he left a damp trail down Will's body. Will did not feel fully conscious of this steady, downward movement until Jack arrived at his navel.

Jack slipped his tongue into the hollow, lips planted firmly around it. Will's hands slid from Jack's back, down his arms and rested on the sheets. Jack flicked his tongue in and out, imagining other things, wanting to insinuate them, but not being able to tell if Will knew what he meant. Then, Will released a greedy moan, and not wanting to bore him, Jack continued his efforts downwards. Licking until he reached Will's hair, Jack moved his mouth to one side, deliberately teasing at the juncture of groin and thigh. Will tried to hold still and calm himself as Jack repeated the motion on the other side. He thought he knew what Jack intended to do and the anticipation was both thrilling and terrifying.

When Jack touched him, he flattened his tongue on the underside of Will's hardness, licking wetly up. He did this several times before moving to the right side, then the left. Will struggled, but was able to lie still. At last, Jack swirled his tongue around the tip before closing his lips over it. Will groaned and his hips rose until Jack held them down. Jack looked up without moving and caught Will's eyes. Will stared for a moment. There was Jack Sparrow, the infamous pirate captain, in his own bed with his face… Heaven help him. Will was terribly embarrassed and he closed his eyes, letting his head rest fully upon the bed.

Jack grinned, or rather, half-grinned, and then sucked. Will cried out as the lips descended, but Jack still thwarted the movement of his hips. Will could barely stand but minutes of this sort of attention and he knew he had to make Jack stop.

"Oh," Will tried to begin, "Jack…"

Jack hummed a questioning sound at Will, which very nearly made Will lose control. The vibration of Jack's voice, what with the wet tongue and the hollowed cheeks, was maddening.

"Oh!" Will croaked. "Oh, again… Please do that again."

Jack hummed as requested, this time deeper in pitch and for a much longer time.

"Wait, no!" Will tried to protest, "don't… don't, please. I'll be lost if you don't stop! Oh, Jack… wait…"

Jack relaxed his humming and dragged his flattened tongue upward as he lifted his head.

Will gasped. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't form words either in his mind or on his lips. He wanted Jack to do something, but damned if he could figure out what. In fact, Will decided he just wanted Jack indiscriminately and Will shoved his hips up at him insistently. Jack sat back on his haunches to survey Will's position. He seemed ready enough, writhing about as it were. Jack ran his hands over Will's sides, calming him, soothing him, trying to reveal his intentions as unthreatening. He leaned over Will, pushing himself up on an elbow and groaned into Will's ear.

"Let me show you, Will. Let me have you." Jack whispered as though he was begging, but Will could tell it was anything but a request. Jack was a demanding lover, and it made for marvelous contrast to Elizabeth. Will could only whimper in reply.

" I want your permission, whelp," Jack said with a bit more force. "Let me have you."

"Aye, Jack," Will breathed. "I'm yours."

Jack's sigh turned to a growl. Untangling himself from the bed, he went for the little bottle of oil he was glad he hadn't quite exhausted with Norrington. He eyed it critically and decided there was just enough. Jack eased himself back into the bed and sat on his haunches, holding the bottle between his thighs so that he wouldn't have to warm it each time he needed more. He bent his head down and went to work again with his mouth. He hoped it would be enough distraction. Jack uncorked the bottle and dipped a finger in. Then, he put the oiled finger behind Will. Jack didn't push, just allowed Will to become accustomed to being touched in the general area. He continued diligently with his mouth and the other hand, and Will soon accepted the unfamiliar caress without shyness.

Then, Jack gave a push with his finger. Will's movements became slightly tense, but he didn't protest. In fact, Will was contemplating that Jack's finger, though perhaps more embarrassing than his own, felt much more exciting. He tried to keep his thoughts from wandering to anything else, but he didn't have to try for long. After a moment, Jack curled his finger and struck something so sensitive that Will forgot to breathe. Jack bent and unbent his finger several times until Will breathed again, but he held his eyes scrunched shut. Tiring after several long minutes, and needing his vision to determine just how ready Will was, Jack stopped working with his mouth and sat up to watch as his two synchronized hands turned Will's dignity to mush.

Removing the hand from behind, he coated the original finger plus a second in oil. As he replaced the single digit, Will inhaled discordantly, but his eyes still remained closed. Jack took this as a good sign. At first Jack moved his fingers in a scissor motion, building up to the stretch. Then he bent both together, stroking the sensitive flesh with more and more vigor. The third finger arrived quicker than the second. Will groaned. He wasn't sure how long he'd last at this pace, and he knew that the real Jack wasn't about to settle the way his fantasy Jack had.

"More," Will whispered.

Jack thought about bending down to hum another question around Will's cock, but decided against it. He waited to hear if Will would repeat his request. Jack kept moving his hands and eventually Will spoke again.

"Please, more," his voice wavered, barely audible above Jack's heartbeat.

"What do you want?" Jack asked. He knew it was devilish, but he couldn't withstand the temptation.

"I want…" Will had forgotten what he wanted.

There was a long pause and Jack waited.

"You," Will finally finished.

"What's that?" Jack pretended not to hear.

"I want you," Will replied, still quiet but with more energy.

"Are you certain you're prepared to accept me?" Jack was playing, his tone almost comically exaggerated, but his question was a serious one. He didn't want to cause Will any undue pain.

"Aye," Will agreed. It was too quick.

Again Jack waited for the answer to be repeated, this time to be sure it was adequately thought through.

"Oh, Jack," Will pleaded. He wanted to touch Jack's body but he couldn't reach. His hands fell useless and uncoordinated back to the sheets. "I need more of you."

"Tell me once more. Tell me what you said before I began," Jack was testing. He cared too much to ravish Will if his brain was only half working. Will tried to think about what had been said. His mind was hazy, but he retraced his steps. Then the memory hit him. Had he been standing, his knees would've given out. Never had anything sounded more romantic, more erotic.

"Jack…" Will was almost afraid to voice the sentiment a second time. "I'm yours," he whispered.

It was Jack's turn to be bowled over. No sailor nor whore had ever sounded so genuine. Jack remembered not so much all that was said, but instead, all the reasons why he loved Will Turner.

"Good lad," Jack soothed. "Relax, now. I'll take good care of you."

Jack withdrew his hands from Will and used them to smooth a thick coating of oil over himself. Will groaned at their absence, and groaned again as he watched Jack. He put a hand again behind Will with yet more oil, making sure that there would be no shortage. Will breathed deeply and closed his eyes as Jack watched the tan chest rising and falling. Will was perfect. Jack wanted everything to be perfect. He stretched over and put the oil on the modest wooden nightstand. Still slick with oil, he ran his hands over Will's chest and belly, gave him a few last strokes with his closed hand and then reached back to prop up Will's legs. Jack looked around quickly for something soft to put under Will's tailbone and settled for a pillow. When Will was situated, Jack braced himself a bit and let his weight guide the first small thrust.

Will winced a little as he accepted the first of Jack's breadth. He could not tell how far Jack was inside, but he didn't care to check.

"Remember to relax," Jack said, trying to calm him.

Will nodded and breathed deeply. The smell of Jack was both comforting and intoxicating. He felt Jack's hand close around him again and concentrated on that feeling to the best of his ability. It felt amazing, and Will remembered how good it had felt when Jack used the second hand on him. He wanted that sensation again and urged Jack on, placing his palms firmly on Jack's hips and guiding him. Jack pushed as smoothly as he could, using one hand to touch Will and the other to hold himself up. He was glad to have Will guiding him. When Will stopped pulling, Jack allowed him more time to breathe.

It took Will several minutes, but then he realized that he felt Jack's body against his own. Jack moaned, being able to push no further, and Will sighed his relief. He looked up at Jack's eyes, black and rimmed with black in the darkness. They stared at each other, even when Will thought the gaze might prove too intense to weather. Jack continued to watch Will long after his eyes flitted shut again. Eventually, he let go of Will's length and used his hand as leverage to angle his hips up, rubbing the responsive flesh, the sensation of which Will had sorely missed. Jack pulled back slightly until he saw Will's eyes open, glazed over and unfocused, and close once more. Then with quick and shallow thrusts, Jack continued to rub the spot until Will cried out.

"Jack…" Will gasped, but had trouble finishing his thoughts. "I need! Oh, I need…"

"God, Will, tell me!"

"More."

"Am I hurting you?" Jack pushed a little harder.

"No… I mean, yes, but… Don't stop."

Jack most certainly did not need to be told twice. He let his body weight sink down, pushing harder. He slid his hands under Will's back and held their bodies close together as he thrust mercilessly. Will grunted and gave stunted expulsions of breath with every repetition. Jack, however, noticed that Will was not exactly as loud as Jack deemed necessary. So, he pulled back further and arched himself, the angle of which finally made Will shout. Jack balanced himself and used a hand to touch Will's groin. Jack slowed his pace, hips and hand moving sensually synched. Jack's hand was still lightly slick with oil and the feeling of it pried from Will sounds that were almost like sobs. Without Jack's weight to hinder him, Will curved his back up off the bed, hands splaying in the sheets as leverage. He raised his legs and hooked them around Jack's thighs, pulling him closer. Jack had never seen anything so wanton in his life. So much for meek and modest Will.

"Jack," Will's voice emerged hoarsely.

Jack made only guttural noises in reply.

"Jack, I'm going to…" Will's breath caught in his throat and he held it.

"Don't hold back," Jack murmured between thrusts.

And Will did not hold back. He pushed back at Jack with need, grasping at him with his hands. His breath quickened and he heard no sound but his own pulse until Jack's howl drowned out even that. Will twitched in Jack's hand, crying his release. The tensing of Jack's muscles told him that Jack, too, had spent. Jack held himself up for a few moments, gasping and then realized he was ready to collapse. Briefly, he kissed Will's face and then he extricated himself from the boy's limbs. He offered Will the bit of torn shirt he'd salvaged from Norrington's floor and Will cleaned up his belly.

Jack's eyes closed and he did not see the pained look cross Will's face. Will was happy, but confused and concerned. Laying contentedly, Jack pondered that it had been a long time indeed since he'd gotten so much exercise in so few days.

"Rest," Jack sighed, as much to himself as to Will, and then he fell asleep, snoring lightly.

"Welcome home," Will said quietly to the sleeping form, wiping a bit of skewed kohl from Jack's cheek. Tired as he was, Will would have trouble sleeping for thoughts of their flight in the morning.


	11. X News

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 2,134

X. News

A sharp rapping at the front door brought Will to his senses with a start. He got up from the bed and pulled on pants, quickly and quietly, trying not to wake Jack. As Will left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, Jack stirred lightly. He reached an arm over toward where Will had laid, grasping. Feeling no one, Jack opened his eyes. He breathed deeply the scent of the night before. He thought Will must have gone to work at the smithy. So, Jack stretched leisurely, thinking he'd be left with run of the house for the whole day. Then, Jack heard voices and he realized Will must be in the other room with someone. He strained to hear what was being said. The sheets fell from his body as he sat upright to listen.

"Sir?" Will's voice drifted through the wall.

"I have been sent to warn you that there is a dangerous fugitive on the loose and the governor has good reason to think that he may pay you a visit." The voice was stern – too stern. This was not the sound of a simple jail break. Jack knew immediately that he was about to be blamed for something serious.

"There has been a murder," the stern voice continued. "I'm sorry to say, Will. Surely you were well enough acquainted… But Commodore Norrington is dead."

"Norrington!" Will spat. "Who in the world would want to kill Norrington?"

"Jack Sparrow."

'_Captain_,' Jack thought. '_Captain Jack Sparrow_.'

"And I suppose that's why you've come to se me about it. Well, I'll have you know that I still avoid familiarity with pirates. The company I kept to keep Elizabeth from harm has certainly left no lasting mark on my character." Jack had to admit, the whelp was good under pressure.

"That's the other reason I have come to see you about it."

"What?"

"Elizabeth. I've also come to tell you that she has gone to her father's house. Surely, you noticed her absence," the officer's tone turned slightly reproachful.

"She told me she was attending a party. My wife has all the liberties she could want. I did not expect her home last night."

"Well, it was she who discovered the Commodore's death. Dare I say, she even witnessed the pirate fleeing the room."

"Thank you, officer, but if you will please excuse me, I must ready myself to call on my wife as soon as possible."

"She has given word that she is well enough and at this time prefers only the company of maid servants," the officer paused to add a kinder note. "Women require delicate company for delicate moods."

"Well, do excuse me nonetheless, if you please, sir." Jack could hear Will ushering the man toward the door.

"Is there a message I might send to her from you?"

"Do send her my best, if you are returning to the house. Let her know that she may send for me at any time. I will wait at home for her call. Thank you, officer," Will replied. Again, the feet shuffled toward the door.

"Contact us at once if your pirate friend returns. And be wary, Mr. Turner. He is armed with shot."

"Of course, officer," and Will's voice fell silent. Jack heard the door shut and Will's footsteps approached the bedroom again. Jack laid down and pretended to sleep.

"Get up, you scoundrel!" Will thundered. When Jack opened his eyes, Will stood in the doorway, sword drawn.

"What is this?" Jack asked with alarm.

"You've murdered Norrington! How could you do such a thing? He sprung you from jail when you were imprisoned on false charges and you repay him with his own blood? He was a good man and you've killed him!"

"You think I would kill the very man I laid with? As for whether he was a good man, you forget that the Commodore had a bit of pirate in him." Jack winked.

"You disgust me! Get out of this house!" Will pulled the sheet off Jack cruelly. Jack stood, paying no heed to his own nudity. He stepped in front of Will, unintimidated by the show of sudden force.

"Look at me, Will. I am the same man I was last night. I fled Norrington's house because Elizabeth caught us in bed together. If I killed the men I laid with, my sword would already be drawn for you. I may be a pirate, but I am not a killer of decent men." Jack's palms raised in a gesture of armistice.

"Why didn't you come to find me sooner if you cared so little for him, then? Why flee only on the night of his murder?" Will's resolve was faltering. He knew Jack had no reasonable motive.

"I came to find you and the talk of the town was that you were happily married. I was insane with jealousy if you must know. So, I went to the pub and drowned my sorrow until the Commodore arrived. By that time, any company at all was preferable to my own thoughts. He was thundered up, himself, and I convinced him to take me home. I thought you wouldn't want me. So, when he let me stay, I stayed. You must certainly know that Elizabeth walked in on us for the first time after one of those mornings. Norrington covered our tracks by arresting me. He set me free and I decided to have one last go at it before I had to leave and never return. It was then that Elizabeth found us a second time. I thought she was going to some authority when she left the room and I left through the window to go the other way. And since I thought I could never see Port Royal again, I came to say goodbye to you. Because…" Jack stopped and shook his head in defeat.

"Because…?" Will prompted.

"Damn it, Will. Because not even the Pearl can give me freedom when my heart is chained to someone on the land. No matter how many hours the sun and moon reflect in any of the seven seas, I cannot rest."

Will sighed and lowered his sword. He knew Jack was telling the truth. Although, it was still a mystery to Will who would have killed the Commodore and why Elizabeth would have identified that man as Jack.

"There'll be no clearing your name this time," Will said, "no matter who killed Norrington."

Jack came forward and embraced Will. He held his breath as he remembered his last moments with Norrington. Jack hadn't returned his sentiment, couldn't have in good conscience. He only really loved Will, but he cared for Norrington very much. After a few moments, Jack gathered his resolve.

"Don't worry about this," Jack assured Will. "Norrington was never anything more than a distraction. Let him not continue to be so now that he is gone. We will still leave tonight and everything will be just as we planned."

He touched Will's face with his hand. Will looked sheepish. He didn't know how or whether to comfort Jack. He smiled a bit, hoping Jack would make the best course of action more obvious to him. When nothing happened, Will spoke.

"Really, I'm sorry. It must be terrible for you, Jack."

"Believe me when I say that I'll be alright. In this bedroom, the company is infinitely better," Jack replied.

He draped his arm around Will's waist and pulled him closer. Will leaned in, much more gingerly than the night before, and kissed Jack on the mouth. More calm than the first time they had kissed, Will was able to take the time to experience every sensation. Jack's lips were every bit as soft as a woman's, though distinctly more practiced and bold than Elizabeth's. Jack's moustache, normally so absurd, turned erotic as its coarseness brushed the soft skin of Will's lips and face. Jack's hands raised into Will's hair and he moaned almost pitifully into Will's mouth. When he pulled away, Will was left without breath.

"Lie with me again before we go," Jack said softly. It was never a request. Jack knew Will wanted him. He knew that he never really had to ask.

Will nodded. He knew it might be a long time before they were out of harm's way enough to do so after this. They kissed as Jack pushed Will onto his back. Jack held himself aloft for what seemed like a long time, kissing Will, but nothing more. Jack rubbed his bare skin on the coarse fabric of Will's breeches. He grunted and pulled them off with a series of awkward shifts of weight.

Will sighed when they were finally gone. Intertwining their legs and wrapping his arms tightly around Jack's back, Will relished the feeling of Jack's skin. It was soft in some places, calloused in others, but always brilliantly warm. Will imagined he could feel the warmth running all through him – essence of Jack diffused into his blood. He wasn't sure if it was the unexpected warmth of Jack's caress of the knowledge that he was leaving Port Royal that made him tingle so. It was probably both. Jack sucked hungrily at Will's ear lobe as he ground his hips down. He ran a hand up the back of Will's thigh cautiously.

"Are you too sore to continue?" Jack whispered into the ear he'd just released from his mouth. Will shook his head 'no.'

"I don't think so," he replied, "but if I am, it'll be worth it."

He squirmed under Jack, reaching for the oil on the night table. Jack took the bottle and sat back, preparing to work. He set out slowly, slick hand working methodically. This time, however, his eyes did not leave Will's face. In the light, he wanted to savor every expression. Even as he bent down to lick Will's hardness, his eyes stared back challengingly. Will moaned when Jack touched swollen, tender flesh. Minor pains transformed into stunningly intense pleasure. Jack manipulated him with his hands like an instrument and Will closed his eyes to concentrate on his attentions more fully. Small, grateful moans turned to gasps and growls and finally begging. Jack watched the expressions as he listened, trying to memorize each creasing of brow, each opening and closing of the mouth. This memory, the thought, he could never afford to lose.

"Jack, more," Will's voice strained.

Jack tilted his head quizzically, curling three fingers with excruciating slowness and precision.

"Stop tormenting me," Will hissed.

Only half joking, he grabbed a handful of Jack's hair and pulled Jack toward his face. Will snatched the bottle of oil as Jack, surprised, took advantage of both his hands to hold himself up. Will poured oil into his palms and rubbed them together, testing the feel of it. He shoved the bottle back onto the table. Tentatively at first, and then with more confidence, Will took Jack's length between his hands and slicked it with oil. Jack was already hard and dripping with anticipation and he groaned loudly at Will's touch. Will placed his feet closer toward his body and bent at the knees. He urged Jack's cock lower and Jack complied eagerly. Surprisingly lacking in coyness, Will positioned Jack and used his feet to pull him closer.

"I want you," Will said, eyes fiery with lust.

"I need you," Jack replied and he pushed forward slowly, but this time not pausing to allow Will time to breathe.

When their bodies were flush, Will grunted and wrapped his legs tightly around Jack's back. He pulled Jack as close as he could and Jack shifted within him, trying to hit just the right spot without pulling back. Jack lowered most of his weight onto Will's torso and Will relaxed the grip with his legs. Jack backed up slightly to angle his hips and slid his arms under Will's body. Will arched to allow Jack access and the angle made them both pant heavily. For a few moments, Will held his back aloft while Jack huffed and puffed his efforts.

When Will tired, he lowered his back and braced himself against the headboard with his hands. The tension gave more fierceness to Jack's thrusts, and he slowed to push with more force and accuracy. Will's breath was ragged as Jack freed his hands and wedged one between them. The other held him upright and separated their torsos enough to give Jack's hand room for movement. Ecstasy overwhelmed Will and he brought his hands down onto Jack's back. Dirty fingernails sank into yielding flesh as Will clung frenziedly to Jack's heaving frame. Jack gasped at the pain inflicted by Will's hands and held his breath as he finished so he could better hear Will's shouts.


	12. XI Massacre at Port Royal

**Title:** The Afterglow  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing:** Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)  
**Warnings:** violence, character death  
**Summary:** Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of _Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl_.  
**Disclaimer:** At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.  
**Word Count:** 1,118

XI. Massacre at Port Royal

Jack sank into the sheets and kissed Will's tanned shoulder. When they had caught their breaths, Will sat up and began to pull on his pants.

"I must ready things before we leave, tonight. It is already nearing noon and I'll have many things to keep me busy. I'm going to fetch some food and things from the market. Stay here and prepare whatever you will want from the house," Will said.

Jack nodded and tossed him a few coins from his leather pouch. Will didn't ask where it came from. He didn't want to entertain the possibility of it being blood money or something equally distasteful. He needed to stock up because it would be unlikely they'd be able to stop anywhere during the day after they fled. Will accepted the money, threw on a shirt and left the room.

For a moment, Jack listened to the sounds of the empty house. Birds sang, wood creaked, distant shouts from people in the village drifted through the air. Jack knew his time was limited and he roused himself, dressing and then looking for some kind of sack to put useful items in. He had busied himself for only a few minutes when he thought he heard the front door open. Instinctively, he spun around and reached for his sword.

"Elizabeth!" Jack breathed. "Not again…" he whispered.

"Jack!" She echoed his tone. Her eyes quickly scanned the scene. Mussed bed. Mussed, sweaty Jack. How was it possible that Jack managed to intervene on all of her romantic endeavors? She was utterly furious. Turning to go, she spied a sword hanging on the wall in the front room. She snatched it up and whirled back to challenge Jack. His sword was already drawn.

"It is not my intentions to fight you, Elizabeth," Jack tried to soothe her. "Whatever you think has happened surely has been a series of mistakes."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth snapped.

"If you think I have killed your Commodore, you are mistaken," Jack said. "And I have not precisely revealed your obvious interactions with him to Will. You could turn on your heel and leave this room and no one would ever be the wiser." All Jack wanted was for Elizabeth to go. She would complicate his escape with Will. He was willing to tell her anything to prevent said interference.

Elizabeth did not respond. She parried and fell back expertly, but Jack did not tire. She would have to try another approach, and as Will's teaching had not made her as adept a swordsman as Jack, she had to rely on something else. She would stun Jack, remove his wits.

"I do not think you have killed Norrington," Elizabeth replied. Jack thought it was a little late. He was suspicious of what her reply would be.

"Why, then, have you got the entire royal navy convinced that I did?" Jack asked, warily.

"Because I killed him, myself." Jack's feet failed to move for a moment and Elizabeth nicked him on the shoulder before he could escape.

"What!" Jack gasped.

"I killed the Commodore, myself. I wanted him to take me away. He refused and then I found him with you," she spat in disgust. "After you were jailed, he promised we would indeed go away together, but again, I found him with you. You're both despicable. The only reason you escaped is because I did not find my weapon more quickly. You shall not escape me a second time."

Jack was dumbfounded. His mind whirled. He didn't know if he could justify killing Elizabeth to avenge the Commodore, as a lover is not always the same as someone you truly love. He didn't want to hurt Will. He didn't want to hurt Will, but he was incensed, he wanted revenge and he believed that Elizabeth deserved to die. Woman or no, she was cruel and callous and conniving. Rage swam through his veins. His blood turned hot, his vision tunneled, his footing became clumsy.

At that moment, Elizabeth reached quickly behind her and revealed a small pistol. It seemed to materialize from nowhere. For a moment, Jack stood looking at it. Just as it cocked and her finger wrapped around the trigger, he threw himself out of the way. Then, Jack saw the look on Elizabeth's face. The gun dropped from her hands and they rose to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes.

Jack looked behind him. The front door… He had been standing in front of the door before he evaded Elizabeth's shot. Will must have opened the door at that very same moment, as he now stood in the doorway, parcels from the market strewn at his feet, blood seeping through his shirt from between his fingers. Jack stared horrified. Then, he retrieved his own pistol from his belt. He pointed it at Elizabeth. She did not look up until he spoke.

"You cheated," Jack said bluntly. She looked at him just before he shot her square in the middle of her chest. There was a moment of eye contact. Then, she stumbled backward with a muffled cry and Jack ran to Will's side. Jack fell to his knees. He picked up Will's head and held it to his chest. He wanted to tell Will everything Elizabeth said, but there was too much blood. Not enough time to figure out what to say or how to say it. Jack bent down and kissed Will, whose lips were almost too weak to kiss back.

Then, Jack saw stars as a sharp pain emanated from between his ribs. He fell back on his haunches, gently releasing Will's head. Looking down, Jack saw the knife sticking out of his own chest. Will had avenged his wife. Jack looked up at him, lungs failing, eyes filled with tears.

"I loved you," Will choked. There was blood on his tongue.

"She had wronged you, but I could never die by better hands," Jack replied.

Will's face contorted. He didn't see what Jack saw.

"Elizabeth killed the Commodore. She was trying to finish me off," Jack was cut short.

"The shot… She had shot… Oh god," Will stammered. He understood.

"I do love you," Will said.

"I have always loved you," Jack replied.

Jack leaned down again and kissed Will's lips. Will clutched at Jack's hair with his bloody fingers. Jack only stopped when Will's hands fell away. Jack smoothed Will's mussed hair as he had done in life. He wiped away the boy's tears and cleaned the blood from the side of his mouth. Then, Jack collapsed on an elbow as he breathed his last.

'_Imagine of the headlines_,' Jack thought. '_Massacre at Port Royal_.'


End file.
